


The Blue Death

by xaloe



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blue Death AU, Gen, Hunter Connor, Post-Apocalypse, Scientist Kamski, Zombie Connor, Zombie Hunters, Zombie!Connor, bluebloods
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaloe/pseuds/xaloe
Summary: In 2038 the world was in chaos.20 years prior Elijah Kamski created a virus to use against the Russians in an upcoming war, but an enemy spy on the inside unleashed the virus before it could reach its destination.The result was apocalyptic.—Now that the virus has taken over most of the world, chaos is all most know. The people that were infected became mindless killers, and the others that remained virus-free became harsh and hostile.The world is in ruins.But a new virus is spreading...one that will change the worlds fate once more.





	The Blue Death

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I’m excited to start this up, the idea has been circling around my head for quite some time. I’m not sure how long this will be, or how far I’ll get, but I’m going to try to continue this for a long while. I apologize beforehand if the chapters are slow to post, but I have a very busy life.  
> Also a shoutout my amazing beta @/Cybxrlife(Instagram)!  
> You can most definitely bug me on Instagram(@xaloe__) or the Detroit Become Human Animo(@xaloe__) I’ll prob post the more updates on the Animo, but eh. You can find an art piece for this fic here >> http://aminoapps.com/p/107jog  
> !!  
> (WARNING)  
> !!  
> There is A LOT of gore and dark themes in this fic. So please, if you can’t handle it I’m afraid this fic isn’t for you! I don’t want to traumatize anyone XP
> 
> Thank you, and enjoy!

 

The world in 2038 was chaos.

 

About 20 years prior, a new era began. War seemed to inevitable, and the United States was getting desperate. They begun to search for new weapons to surprise their enemies in the near future. They gathered multiple scientists and experts in fields all varieties. The most promising field was disease. So they spread their search out towards scientist studying the ability to weaponize illnesses.

 

One of the most creative and brilliant of all the experts was shockingly young. Elijah Kamski was surprised at his governments requests, but quickly agreed. His ideas were not only deadly, but one could even say he was insane, especially for his age. But the government had to look over this fact, there was no time to search for another skilled individual. After his briefing, be left his old life behind to work hard on his ideas. He spent a year dabbling in weaponized viruses and illnesses, and finally had a breakthrough.

 

He called it The Blue Death.

 

The virus was a bacteria, and was a blood-borne disease, or a disease passed on through blood and other body fluids. The bacteria was alive, it a mixture of a modified version of tetrodotoxin and datura stramonium, which Kamski named therium. The therium was blue in color, and once it came in contact with another hosts blood, it infected the person's red blood cells, turning them that sickly blue tint. The hosts pupil would change to that same blue, the government needed to make sure they could spot the infected clearly, day or night.

 

Kamski started testing his virus on small animals, like mice and rabbits. Turns out the virus was too aggressive for the animals bodies, it changed their bone structure, as well completely destroying their minds. Kamski went back and changed the viruses chemical makeup immediately. They needed to make sure the infected would blend in with the others, to influence the spread of the disease without bringing enough attention to itself before it was too late.

 

Trial two consisted of two mice, one infected and the other clean. Once Kamski made sure that the virus wouldn’t destroy the mice’s body - the mind didn’t need to be changed all that much, the enemies they would affect didn’t need personality and a conscience after all - he placed the infected mice in the glass cage with the clean mouse.

 

The aftermath was chaos.

 

The infected mouse proceeded to eat at the other mouse even after it had first bitten it. After the virus took over the clean mouses mind, it became aggressive towards the other attacking it. The two continued to brawl until both were left, skin hanging from broken bones, yet they still continued to attack. Until one of the mice’s heads were chewed off completely. The remaining mouse slowed down but remained undead.

 

Kamski didn’t know if he should be mortified or proud.

 

His superiors were ecstatic about his progress, and wanted him to start mass producing the virus for when the time comes. But he didn’t like the gorey death that most people would suffer through. He knew it was the most logical, that they didn't even have to kill most of their enemies, the virus would do it for them. But it just didn't sit right with him.

 

So he changed the virus. He programmed in a superior strength in muscles, bones and tissue quality, as well as an advanced healing factor. This healing factor wouldn’t work of course if the hosts head is separated from its body, or shot repeatedly in the head. Not even they could survive that.

 

Kamski was quick to act, and went about his little adjustment without being caught. After that, he began the mass-production process. It took nearly 3 months, but after all that work, all of the vials were ready to be moved to their base a little ways outside the Arctic. Kamski had gotten a strange, sick feeling as he watched the last vial be packaged and placed on a reinforced plane to be shipped out overseas. But he had nothing to worry about, he assured himself.

 

It was only a week later that the government had gotten a distress signal from that same plane.

 

It should have been at the base by now, but the signal came from _Florida_.

 

The plane had never made it to the extraction point, and had crash landed on one of Florida’s coasts. When they sent their men out to make sure the vials were safe and untouched, they found them all to be missing. The crew was nowhere to be seen, and the only other evidence as to where they went was the trail of-

 

blue.

 

Blood.

  


Leading into the city.

 

————-

 

Fall had always been a cold season in Detroit.

 

Winter was freezing and summer bearable. But Fall was always a favorite of Hanks. The leaves turned that beautiful golden yellow, red, and orange. And the weather was crisp, but not too cold. It was just right. The perfect time to hang out outside, or take Sumo for walks. But at this time 20 years ago, Fall became one of Hanks most hated seasons.

 

The outbreak started in Fall.

 

He lost his wife in Fall.

 

He lost his partner in Fall.

  


He lost his **son** in Fall.

 

But he survived. And damn did he hate himself for it. Sometimes his thoughts flicker back to that old, but trustworthy pistol he kept on the top of a shelf in his bedroom. But he couldn’t leave Sumo. He couldn’t leave the people that needed his help. And his hatred for the monsters that took everything away from him will never end, so taking out some of those freaks along the way makes his life a little more bearable.

 

Hank walked quietly through one of the many abandoned streets of Detroit, his rifle heavy in his hands. He was on a solo mission, something Fowler repeatedly told him not to do, but he would not cave. He did _not_ need a partner. Never again. The streets were all but quiet, except for the wind and occasional shuffle of something behind store windows. Hank was on a rescue mission, the station had recently gotten word of a family of four trapped within their basement, with countless blue bloods at their door. The mission would be hard to complete for any other officer still working alone in the field, but Hank was a skilled Lieutenant, and he was as smart as he was brave. Or maybe just stupid, as Fowler had put it.

 

He soon reached the house without anything trailing him, and raised his rifle in caution. The door had been ripped off its hinges, with claw marks around its handle. His face twisted up in alarm-they were already inside the house. Which meant more places for them to hide, which meant more ways for them to get the jump on him. He cursed under his breath before checking the windows, scanning the inside from each. Some tables and chairs were turned over, pictures ripped off the walls and doors ripped open. His stomach plummeted at the sight, had they already reached the basement?

 

Hank slowly walked to the back door, which was also open. Great, so they had come in from both sides. This wouldn’t make his work any easier. Hank slowly opened the door, as quiet as possible. There was nothing in his visible line of sight, but he made sure to stick to the walls and keep an eye out. As he trailed the walls, he heard the muffled crunch of glass below him. He lifted his foot from a picture frames glass, and peered over at the ripped image below. The paper wasn’t damaged that bad, and he reached down to pick it up.

 

The picture was of the family. All smiles, the blonde woman and black haired man must be the parents, while- he quickly shoved the image in his pocket. He couldn’t look at the children. He just couldn’t look at that little boy. He couldn’t, not if he wanted to break down again. There were lives at stake after all.

 

He quickly glanced around each corner before trekking his way throughout the house. Every door was open, and he heard no sounds of limping or shuffling on each floor. Could the blue bloods really be gone? But they had passed through - how was the family still alive? He quickly walked towards the last door on the first floor, realizing that this door was also..ripped open.

 

He quickly raised his rifle, and slowly stepped down the stairs. Cold sweat clung to the back of his neck, and his wild eyes kept searching in the dark. He had to look hard for each step, it seemed this stairwell got darker and darker as he descended deeper. When his feet met solid concrete below, he took slow steps forwards, feeling around with his free hand. There were walls on each side of him, this was a narrow hallway.

 

Hank cursed under his breath, anything could attack him now. From ahead, and behind. He shuffled through his backpack to retrieve those expensive goggles Fowler had given him a month prior. Hank had never used them before, but had been briefed on how to do so. He just thought they were a waste of time, since he usually got missions during the day. But now..not even he felt comfortable in this position. And he could withstand a whole lot, but something really felt off. Why would the blue bloods leave if there still were people down here? He really had a bad feeling about this. That twisting feeling in his stomach was worsening with each step that was taken.

 

He pulled the goggles out and quickly turned them on, placing them over his eyes and mop of unkempt grey hair. As the goggles powered up, his vision returned to him. Everything was in that green haze that night goggles get, but these specific ones detected both heat signatures, and the cold signatures of the infected. That blue blood the infected carry disappears from the human eye after three days. They had gotten the call two days ago. And the blood that coated the wall was blue...

 

Had there been a fight?

 

Or just the blue’s dragging themselves along..

 

Hank quickly walked forwards, that sick feeling steadily growing. A small sound reached his ears, the choked, harsh kind, that very clearly resembled crying. It didn’t sound like a child, but it did mean someone was indeed down here. He raised his rifle and focused all of his attention on the opening ahead. It looked like the entrance to the basement. _Finally_ . The family would be _safe_. He could protect them. Hank cautiously peered into the room, it wasn’t all that large, and all cold concrete. There was a large rug in the middle of the room, a small table and some chairs to the left side of the room. To the right looked like a bed, and a small kitchen area. There was a blind spot to his right, so he’ll have to be aware of that area.

 

His eyes locked onto a shadow in the far left corner.. a person? No, it looked too bulky to be one person alone. He enhanced the lighting on his goggles to get a better look at the shadow. What came to light looked like the mother and two children...but why were they huddled like that? The fourth shadow of the father was missing, and Hank felt sweat drip down his forehead. He didn’t bother using the other features of the goggles, he was too afraid of what he’d find. Hank took a very cautious step forward, steps light as to not alarm them.

 

“ Hello? Mrs. Carlson? Are you alright? I’ve come to help.”

 

He kept his gun trained on the three shadows in the corner, his instincts screaming at him. Something was definitely wrong, he took a small step into the room.

 

“ Mrs. Carlson, I need to know you and your children are alright.”

 

Hank continued taking small steps forwards eyes not once leaving the group of three. The crying continued. As he neared, a putrid smell pierced his nose.

 

“ Mrs. Carlson. Please answer me-“

 

He swore his heart stopped.

 

The mother had turned her head towards him, crimson blood pooling from her mouth and dripping down her chin. Tears were pooled in her eyes, pupils a cold blue, staring at him devoid of emotion. What he saw underneath her made him take a shaky step back. Her children lay unmoving under her, ripped to pieces, twitching in a fashion that Hank knew all too well. She had infected them. But he doubted they would survive the changing, children usually ended up really dead, their minds were too young, and often the virus too violent for their frail bodies.

 

Hank didn’t know how fast he pulled up the rifle and fired, but movement from the corner of his eye quickly caught his attention. He whipped his head back but was too slow compared to the enhanced speed of another blue. The father - clearly infected as well - took a hard swipe at Hanks head, knocking him off his feet and onto the unforgiving concrete below. The father jumped on to Hank, clawing at his face and trying to bite at his neck. Hank, sluggishly pulled his hand gun from his belt and fired into the blue’s stomach. It screamed in alarm, losing its bodily fluids slowed it down.

 

Hank fired again, closer to its heart this time. He wobbled to his feet, head feeling too heavy on his shoulders. He had an obvious concussion, just to add salt to his wounds. His own red blood flowed heavily from the deep gashes on his forehead, and he pressed a hand to his wound to stop the blood flow. It didn't do much, but he stumbled forwards nevertheless. He had dropped his rifle, but his mind was too fuzzy to focus on finding that, and fending off two blue bloods.

 

His goggles were cracked down the right side, leaving a fuzzy crackling sound to flow through the headpiece. He winced and tore it off as he limped towards the stairs. He made sure to fire a few more bullets at both bodies - at least that should slow them down a bit. Hanks mind swam, the crimson blood now leaking into his eye, and he winced, damn the liquid stung. He paddled up the stairs in a woozy rush, almost falling over. But the enraged screams below helped him move quicker. He just needs to reach the first floor. At least if he's out in the open he’ll be able to aim correctly. Though..his good eye was kinda soaked in blood. He groaned in strained frustration as he finally managed to burst through the basements door, shakily running towards the front door.

 

Hank could hear the aggressive and uneven footsteps that were quickly ascending the stairs, and ran out into the mid-days sunlight. His gasps for air weren’t doing much for his old lungs, but he couldn’t stop and take a breathe. He had to push forwards he continued out a little father, a little ways into the middle of the road now. The screaming behind him didn’t stop either, and he barely had any time to turn around before a hand grabbed the back of his coat and yanked.

 

Hank let out a strangled shout before he collapsed onto the cracked black concrete below, for the second time today. He was slower to get up this time, his head felt ready to explode. Of course, one of the blues took advantage of this. The mother quickly clawed at his face, trying to gain purchase on soft flesh. He couldn’t even lift his hand to fire his gun. Hank wasn’t weak, but fending off two newly turned by himself? With a bad head injury? Not even he was sure of the outcome..but it looked like this could be an end for him.

 

He let out a strained chuckle, at least he’ll see Cole again.

 

The father's face was coming awfully close to his neck, and he waited in petrified silence as he eyed the maw of death. He closed his eyes and awaited his fate.

  


Something quick moved from his right and a loud scream pierced his already pounding head once more. One of the weights lifted from him, and the other soon after. Harsh growls and screams could be heard from above, and Hank swore he’d go deaf. He groggily opened his eyes to a bizarre sight.

  


A figure slowly came into his line of sight, standing directly above him. It looked like a person, wearing a dark navy hoodie and ripped black jeans stood over him, hands covered in blue blood. The other was covered in a dark green glove. A bit strange but if this person meant living another day, he wouldn’t judge.

 

Cole would have to wait.

  


The person pulled their rifle over their shoulder where it lay alongside an impressive looking 338 semi automatic sniper rifle. So this kid knew their shit, at least he wasn’t saved by someone who’d up and sacrifice themselves for him. God knew he wasn't worth it.

The two blues looked wide eyed wary..what? He’d never seen expressions like that on blues, just rage or sadness. The strange person fired a few shots into each of the blues heads before they could take another step back. And they had incredible accuracy. How long has this person been out here? They could be a real asset to his department.

 

When everything was silent once more, the person slung the rifle back over their shoulder and sighed. One of the sleeves of their hoodie had been torn up, and it looked like that arm had been heavily bandaged. He thought he saw aqua but his eyesight was probably still fuzzy. They continued to take shallow breaths and closed their eyes before turning around to help Hank up.

 

“Are you alright sir?”

 

A gloved hand was extended towards him, ready to help him off the ground,

 

“ Yeah i’m alright. A little scuffed up but..”

 

The person, was in fact a young man, probably in his early twenties. He had hazelnut hair, and sickly pale skin? Some blood painted his face, must have been from one of the now _really_ dead parents. But it looked like a lighter, _greener_ shade of blue...with…..with…..

 

The man opened his eyes to reveal piercing hazel irises, and bright aqua pupils.

  
  
  



End file.
